Covered in Prose

 



i would love to endure your touch against my skin while the placidity of your language curl my breath just to consume desire’s head whole.  
  
....and I wish I could taste your history beneath my tongue, relish the level of conciseness in your speech,  
only to season my thirst for what you articulate in flawless and absolute ways,  
ways that leave me intoxicated and wet, soaked from your pressurized rain.
  
i’ve craved to clutch my impressions back and slowly let your verses and verbs slide down my throat,
so I could… cling to the perfect couplet.  

a superb soliloquy of you…  
entrenched in the security of my intellect, ever amorous of your prose....  
within me.  

You have mastered the art of caressing me cognitively, molesting me mentally, while ego-stroking my emotions....

how do you do that shit?



Rain